


In Perfect Balance

by Inner_Devil



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Complete, Doctor - Freeform, Drug Use, Drug use mention, Hospital, M/M, PTSD, Praise, Yoga, corpse pose, drug mention, health club, mention of PTSD, sex mention, yoga intructor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2018-12-12 15:06:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11739543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inner_Devil/pseuds/Inner_Devil
Summary: John Watson, ex-army doctor, returned from war with a frustrating injury. After initially lashing out at doctors and physical therapists, he takes their recommendation to try yoga to manage his PTSD and exercise the injury. Eventually, he turns from student to yoga teacher and finds one of his most impressive students and one of his most attractive.





	1. John Watson: Yoga Soldier

**Author's Note:**

> The yoga information I use comes from this website: https://www.yogajournal.com/poses

John Hamish Watson. Ex-soldier, doctor, turned yoga instructor. Certainly not the trajectory he would have imagined for his life, but here he was. And he was happy, something he hadn't felt properly since he returned to London. He'd initially taken up yoga to help himself relax and escape from his mind. PTSD, they told him. Lifelong struggle. War inside his mind. Great. Then there was his injury. He'd taken a bullet to the shoulder and developed a limp. Psychosomatic, they said. Pain in the arse, he told them. Still, he hated physical therapy. It felt like everyone there just pitied him. After repeated attempts to help were met with outbursts from the soldier, one doctor suggested that yoga with proper instruction could help with the physical therapy as well. 

Over time, John realized he had a love for yoga. While it initially seemed so simple, he quickly discovered how difficult it could be. Anyone could stand on one leg, right? Wrong. It took time and patience to learn even the most basic poses, especially with his injuries and temper. But he learned one step at a time. And even when he'd managed to complete what the physical therapist and his doctors recommended, he decided to continue as a form of therapy and relaxation. He went to school and studied, becoming a certified yoga instructor. Now he had his own little studio in a health club and was doing fairly well. He was happy and relaxed and managed to earn some money doing something he enjoyed. 

Most of John's classes were filled with women in typical yoga attire: yoga pants, tank tops, trainers. Some with bras, others without. And while John did find some of them attractive, he didn't engage in any sort of relationship other than what was required for him to do his job. That was one strict rule he had. He never had any sort of relationship with his students other than as a teacher and his student. 

"All right, ladies. Now let's try the gate pose," the blond instructed as he walked between rows of yoga mats and students. Glancing around as everyone changed position, he occasionally stopped by one or another to correct their position. 

"More of an arch to your side, Rachel. That's it. Think ballerina, not snapped spaghetti noodle. Jasmine, let's see if you can't extend that arm a bit more. There you go! Very good, everyone," he praised.

He knew quite well that some of his students faked difficulty with some of the poses just so he would touch them and guide them, but he did it anyway just to be a good teacher. If someone needed help, he would do it. After a while, he became well known for being a strict teacher who could properly push people to their limits without being a complete arsehole. He was well liked by everyone at work, employees and students alike.

Between classes, he would visit the pool at the health club and sometimes stop by a few other classes they offered. After all, he got a free membership as one of the benefits of working at the health club, so he may as well take advantage of it. Of course, sometimes he did get looks from the other people around as he walked through the building wearing spandex and a tank top, showing off his muscular form and sporting more than a bit of a bulge in his trousers. But he didn't mind, taking it all in stride as he greeted those he passed. 

John was happy in his life now, for the most part. The yoga helped him to relax and made sure his injury stayed properly stretched and exercised. Physically, he felt much better and even managed to decrease the severity of his limp, though it wasn't completely gone. Even still, it felt a bit lonely to return home to an empty flat and go to bed in silence every night. Something seemed to be missing for him, even when yoga and teaching it gave him a purpose every day. But John Watson, famed yoga teacher and soldier, would soon meet his match.


	2. Sherlock Holmes: Addict Extraordinaire

"You cannot continue this way, Sherlock! You're killing yourself!" Mycroft finally snapped.

Sherlock was strung out on a hospital bed after his last high. Mycroft hated seeing his brother like this, knowing the drugs would eventually kill him. But of course, they were both just as stubborn as their parents, if not more. And Sherlock was refusing to budge.

"What do you know, Fatcroft? I'm fine," Sherlock argued, even as he laid there in the bed looking gaunt and nearly lifeless. Even now, he turned up the morphine he was hooked up to so he could get more of a high.

"Stop it," Mycroft argued, turning it back down. "You're not getting high in the hospital. You're getting treatment and you're going to stop. Smoking is one thing. But at the rate you're going, you're going to be dead before your next birthday. Now stop it!"

"If I may," the doctor interrupted from the doorway before stepping in. "The nurses have informed me of your reluctance to go to therapy or to a rehabilitation center. And we have many patients who feel the same way. What I would recommend in this case is that you see a rehabilitation counselor twice a week at least, and continue seeing a medical doctor monthly so we can track your progress. And to help combat the loss of your high, I'd recommend exercise. Exercise will release endorphins--"

"Which will act as a counterbalance to the lost high I get from the drugs," Sherlock interrupted grumpily, glaring at the doctor. "I'm not going. I'm not quitting. Just release me and let me be."

With a nod from Mycroft, the doctor left and the elder Holmes sighed a bit. He knew his brother needed help and he wasn't going to get it by himself. he wouldn't even admit there was a problem.

"You're going," he decided, grabbing his mobile and texting Anthea. Moments later, he received a response. "There. You're now a member of a health club. They have a pool and yoga and various classes you can attend. You're going to go to as many as necessary to avoid drugs, end of story. I will send a car every day to take you and pick you up. And you know I'll know if you attempt to skip a visit or use drugs again. You may continue smoking if you must, but that's it."

Despite his best arguments, Sherlock eventually grew tired and agreed just to shut Mycroft up. And the day after he was released, a car arrived to take him to the health club. Deciding he'd at least make use of the pool, Sherlock dressed in only a pair of tight swim trunks to go to the health club, much to his brother's dismay. Even still, it was better than utter refusal and a tantrum, so he allowed it.

As Sherlock walked into the health club and past the front desk on his way to the pool, he happened to pass a large window looking into one of the yoga classes. And the second he spotted the instructor, he was hooked. Unable to hear a thing the blond said through the glass, he just watched as the stranger walked through the rows with a slight limp, adjusting his students easily and demonstrating poses. At that moment, he knew he needed to be in that class, even if he was more than a bit skeptical about the more spiritual aspects of the practice. But when Mycroft sent the car to pick him up, he immediately demanded to be placed in the class.

"Yoga? What for?" Mycroft asked, furrowing his brow.

"You wanted me to exercise. Yoga is exercise!" Sherlock defended. "I don't care what it takes. You have to make sure I'm in his class as soon as possible."

With some persuasion, Mycroft agreed and Sherlock was in the class by the next morning. Neither he nor John expected what would come next.


	3. Relaxation Instruction

Sherlock arrived the next day fully prepared for class, even though he wasn't quite sure what to really expect from this man. He'd researched the instructor after spotting his name in the directory at the front of the health club: Dr. John H. Watson. Seeing that he was an actual medical doctor made Sherlock feel a bit more trusting of the man since he wasn't just some spiritual guru who would tell him his addiction could be cured by chanting or something like that. He may actually be able to help. So here was the detective, wearing what he was told was normal attire for a yoga class. After his research confirmed it, he'd purchased spandex trousers and a loose-fitting tank top, walking into the class barefoot as most suggested that was the best way to do yoga. Mats were provided in the class, so he didn't need to worry about that.

"All right, everyone. Let's get started," John announced after he'd finished speaking to one of his students about one of the poses. "Grab a mat, neat rows, and we'll start slow and stretch."

With the announcement, everyone seemed to rush around to get a mat. Sherlock didn't realize what the big deal was until he spotted some of the students. All women, all rushing to get as close to John as possible. Ah, so that was why they'd all moved so quickly. Sherlock scoffed and grabbed a mat, settling himself a good distance away from the rest of the students so he could concentrate rather than hearing the constant giggles of the women pretending they couldn't do something just to have John's hands on them.

"Let's see how everyone's doing with your tree pose," John decided, demonstrating as usual so everyone remembered how it was done. Once everyone began to move, he walked through the rows to see how they were doing. "Good, good. Remember to breathe, everyone. Keep that right foot on your thigh."

When he reached his newest student, John had to admit he was impressed. Sherlock was perfectly balanced, standing tall with his left foot planted firmly on the ground and his right foot pressed against his inner thigh. 

"Amazing," he praised with a smile. "Usually tall blokes like you have terrible balance."

Sherlock blushed, but cleared his throat a bit. "Idiots. It's simple physics," he insisted. 

"That may be, but it doesn't stop them from toppling over. Your focus is incredible though. Your mind, your body....bloody beautiful. Let's see what we can do about that breathing though," John insisted, moving closer. He stood behind Sherlock, gently placing one hand on the man's chest and the other on his abdomen. "See, your stance and balance are fantastic. But you really need to focus on your breathing too. Diaphragmatic breathing is key in a lot of these poses. See, the diaphragm is right--"

"Right below where your hand is. And diaphragmatic breathing releases tension in the neck and shoulders, causes more efficient gas exchange, re-balances the autonomic nervous system, aids in digestion, and contributes to good posture and core muscle strength," Sherlock interrupted.

John was silent for a moment before letting out a breathy comment of, "Fantastic....."

The second Sherlock heard, he couldn't help but become embarrassed. Blushing and losing his concentration, he toppled over onto the floor, taking John with him. As the pair began to giggle over it all, several women rushed to help John and coddle him to make sure he was okay. 

"Really, I'm fine. It was an honest mistake. Now, where were we?" John insisted. "Everyone is looking great with the tree pose, so let's move on to another. Child's pose next," he decided, moving back to the front of the class to demonstrate the pose. "Remember your breathing!" Glancing around, he checked everyone's pose before continuing to the hero pose. He kept a close eye on Sherlock though, monitoring his capabilities. 

"All right, this one's always a favorite. It's got a couple of different names. Usually either the Dead Bug pose or the Happy Baby pose. I prefer Happy Baby pose, but to each their own," he chuckled before demonstrating the pose. After a moment, he stood and walked through to check everyone's poses. "Good, good, everyone seems to be getting this one. If you're feeling too much pain, let it go. But a little extra stretching is good."

When he came to Sherlock, he couldn't help but grin. The tall, lanky man looked almost comical holding his feet up like this. And though he knew the pose and breathing were near perfect now, John lingered a bit more than necessary. 

"Good. Now this pose emphasizes the hips especially. Now everyone up. Let's move into the downward dog," he continued, watching the poses shift. And as he looked around, John got a wonderful view of Sherlock's arse. Damn those tight trousers, as well as his own. Neither left much to the imagination, if anything. And John managed to find a reason to move back to Sherlock.

"Now, what did I say about breathing?" he scolded, standing behind the other. "Coincidentally" his hips ended up pressed against Sherlock's arse as his hands were placed on the man's chest and diaphragm. "Now deep breath, focus on using your diaphragm."

Sherlock blushed deeply, nearly collapsing once more. But then he heard another voice from across the room.

"Joooooohn!!!!! I can't get it! Is this right?" the woman crooned, drawing both John and Sherlock's attention. "Is my breathing okay?"

"Obviously faking. Ignore her. What were you saying?" Sherlock replied, dismissing the woman entirely.

"Shut it. You don't talk about my students that way," John scolded, tempted to give Sherlock a quick swat on the arse like a child. But he couldn't and walked away towards the woman to help her with her downward dog.

As jealousy boiled in the pit of Sherlock's stomach, he continued sporadically deducing everyone in the class. He even managed to reduce a few to tears, sending them running out of the class. By the end of the day, John was ready to snap the man's neck. And he would've if Sherlock wasn't so bloody gorgeous.

"Excuse me, can you hang back a moment?" John suggested as the class ended, tapping Sherlock's shoulder. "I noticed you seemed a bit frustrated with the other students. And it seemed to impact your ability to effectively complete the positions. So why don't we try some one on one sessions? I could drop by in the mornings or afternoons and we could have as many sessions as you like. But I think that would be more effective for you than a group session like this, don't you?"

Sherlock beamed at the suggestion and nodded instantly. "Yes, that sounds much better. I'll see you tomorrow after your usual class then?" he replied before beginning to walk out the door.

"Wait, I don't know your name or your address!" John called out with a little chuckle. 

Sherlock paused, ducking his head back into the room. "The name is Sherlock Holmes. And the address is 221B Baker Street," he answered, throwing in a wink before heading out to Mycroft's car as usual.


	4. Private Session

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was initially going to be a chapter about the private session entirely, but it turned out like this. the rest of the private session will be in the next chapter.

John had never offered to do private sessions before, even when he had students who had difficulty with some of the poses. He simply offered to meet them in the studio shortly before the class and he'd help them, or he would help them during class. But something was different about this man and John decided to find out what. So when he got home, he decided to search the name.

**Sherlock Holmes**

Who was this man? And why had he suddenly shown up in John's yoga class? He hardly seemed like the type to enjoy yoga or even really care about his health. A quick search revealed far more than John had ever imagined though. Even just the first page was full of results.

**The Science of Deduction**

**Amateur Detective High as a Kite on a Case**

**New Scotland Yard's Newest Sniffer Dog**

**Rising Detective Secretly an Addict**

**Amateur Detective Verbally Attacks Reporter**

John read through very single article and even looked through the website that had popped up. It really was very interesting, if a bit dry. Everyone else seemed to view him as a hopeless druggie who liked tearing people apart by telling them upsetting details about their lives. But John couldn't quite fit that with the man he'd seen. But as he continued reading, it became clear. Sherlock Holmes was a recovering addict struggling with a brain he couldn't turn off. Sure, he was abrasive a good deal of the time. But with a mind that seemed to be running full speed constantly, who wouldn't be? He seemed to be fighting a war in his mind, a phrase John heard constantly in reference to his PTSD. Then and there, the doctor decided he was going to help Sherlock, no matter what it took. 

Once he'd made up his mind, there was no stopping John. He did more research than it seemed he'd ever done before, looking at pressure points on the body and yoga poses to help with certain muscles and various ways to use yoga to help treat addictions. While he didn't know what substances Sherlock used, he could at least figure out a general way to approach this and then work from there. There were many articles about how yoga helped recovery, but very few on actual yoga poses that helped. So John created his own regime for Sherlock. They could try it out the next day and if it didn't seem to work, they'd adjust it and try again. But Sherlock needed help and John was just the man for the job.

Once he'd made note of the regime he had in mind, John managed to get a bit of sleep for the night. But he was far too eager for his private session the next day. When morning did come, it barely even felt like he needed the caffeine he usually craved. He went through his morning routine though and headed for the health club, ready for his usual classes. There was one difference though. Sherlock wasn't in class. Probably for the best, since the group sessions seemed to agitate him far more than help him. So John went through the class as usual, ignoring the flirting from his students and just going through the poses.

When John had his usual lunch break, he had a small meal before deciding to look around and see if Sherlock was at the club at all. Wandering through the building, he ended up at the pool and spotted a messy head of soaked curls by the side. Sure enough, Sherlock had been at the pool for hours swimming and occupying himself. Since he was getting a private session later, he'd decided to find another way to occupy his time until then. And since Mycroft insisted he use the health club membership, the pool seemed to be a good option.

John couldn't help but stare though, admiring the detective's lithe figure. He was absolutely gorgeous and in those tight swim trunks......Well, John found himself wishing he'd worn something a little more loose. The man was pale all around with a few scars from his drug use, John presumed. As skinny as he was, Sherlock's muscles were fairly impressive. And watching him dive back into the pool, John couldn't help but be impressed. Perfect form. He looked like the water was his home. Perhaps it helped him think. Regardless of why he did it, he looked perfect doing it. And John had no doubt that would come in handy for his yoga. He was clearly flexible and that would be perfect.

John knew exactly what he wanted to do during their private session and headed reluctantly back to his usual class schedule for the rest of the day. He'd never been more eager to get off work and hurried out as soon as his last class had left, getting a cab to Baker Street. Upon arrival, he glanced out and took note of the building. Great location, central London. It couldn't be cheap. But the money wasn't why John was here. 

Paying the cabbie, the yoga instructor left the cab and knocked on the door, only to be greeted by an older woman with a gentle smile. Not what he'd been expecting, but John was nothing if not flexible.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm here to see Sherlock Holmes," he explained to the woman, offering his hand in greeting. "My name is John Watson, I'm his yoga instructor."

"Oh, Sherlock didn't tell me he was interested in yoga. Well I'm sure it will do him some good. Better than shooting my walls," the woman chuckled, shaking his hand. "I'm Mrs. Hudson, his landlady. Let me bring you up," she told him, leading the way upstairs to 221B. As soon as she opened the door, she began fretting. "Oh, Sherlock, it's such a mess! And you have company. You couldn't have cleaned up?"

"John hardly minds. Ex-army doctor, he's seen far worse. Come in, John!" Sherlock called as Mrs. Hudson stepped away and began trying to tidy up a bit.

"How did you know that?" John asked, raising a brow.

"Simple. You're listed as Dr. John H. Watson at the health club. Clearly medically trained. Seeing where your eyes go during most yoga classes, you clearly watch for any signs of actual health or physical trouble during each pose. There's also your tan line and the bags under your eyes, your limp, and your war injury," Sherlock rattled off, then went on to explain. "The tan line clearly suggests time abroad, but not for pleasure. You weren't sunbathing, you were wearing full length sleeves the entire time. Coupled with the psychosomatic limp and the bullet wound on your shoulder, it wasn't hard to piece together that you were a soldier. And with your medical knowledge and the fact that you are currently a yoga instructor and not a doctor suggests that you were an army doctor recently invalided home who took up yoga to help with a war injury and now teaches."

John was silent for a moment before letting out a breathy comment. "Amazing."

Sherlock seemed stunned for a moment. "That's not what people usually say," he admitted quietly.

"What do people usually say?"

Sherlock paused before answering, "Piss off."

After a moment, they both burst into giggles at the absurdity of it all. John managed to drop his yoga mat while Sherlock sat back in his chair so he wouldn't fall over.

"Well they're clearly all idiots. You're bloody brilliant. Not to mention your flexibility. Honestly, I've never met anyone so naturally flexible. So hopefully with some guidance, you'll catch on in no time," John assured. "So why don't we get started? We'll just do some chants to start and relax, yeah?"

By this time, Mrs. Hudson had cleaned up and rearranged a bit in the flat so they actually had space to do some yoga. It wasn't much and Sherlock hardly seemed to notice.

"For the last time, Sherlock, I'm your landlady. Not your housekeeper!" Mrs. Hudson scolded, then turned to John. "If you need anything, dear, just shout. I'm right downstairs."

John nodded and thanked her, watching as she left before turning back to Sherlock. They set out their yoga mats to face one another so John could check Sherlock's poses and Sherlock would be able to see John demonstrate any pose he had difficulty with. 

"All right, just join in when you're comfortable. It's nothing major. Just a calming chant. We'll be in the lotus pose, as best you can manage," John explained, getting into position. "Close your eyes and just chant with me. Ommmmm......" he began. Within moments, he heard Sherlock's baritone voice join in and he couldn't help losing his concentration. For a moment it was just Sherlock chanting, John's mind blanking temporarily as there was more than a slight stir in his pants. But before long, he joined back in and tried to act as though nothing had happened. This would certainly be an interesting session.


	5. Corpse Pose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I needed a bit of a break. Life happens, unfortunately. But here's the rest of the private session!

After they finished chanting and had done a bit of stretching to warm up, John knew exactly what Sherlock seemed to need. He was tense and energetic today, clearly itching for a high and begging for something to occupy both his mind and body. John knew just how to fix that.

"Lie down," he instructed.

"What?" Sherlock asked, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"You heard me," John replied firmly. "Lie down."

"Don't be ridiculous, John. Lying down isn't going to help me!" the detective argued. "I need to burn my energy! I should do something more vigorous. Chaturangas! That would help!"

John shook his head though, refusing to let Sherlock try to dictate how the session was going to play out. "No. You're not doing chaturangas. We're going to do something simple and very useful. It's called the Corpse Pose. I'll lead you through a guided meditation and you just have to lie back and listen to me."

"Meditation?! That isn't going to help me at all!" Sherlock snapped. He'd meditated in his mind palace before as a memory technique, but never for its own sake. How was sitting there doing nothing going to help him?

"Just trust me," John insisted, waiting patiently until Sherlock finally gave in. "That's what I thought. Now the corpse pose is one of total relaxation, so it can be pretty hard for some people. Especially someone as wound up as you are. So take your time and try not to get frustrated. First, just lie flat on your back, keep your legs straight, and your arms at your side. Keep your hands about six inches away from your body with your palms facing up. You can relax your feet too. Let them fall open."

Sherlock did as he was told for once, positioning himself exactly as John had described.

"Good. Now close your eyes and breathe. Let it happen naturally," the doctor instructed. "Let your body feel heavy on the floor. Notice your breathing as it goes in and out, in and out. Relax each part of your body, one by one. Start with the soles of your feet. Notice them, how they feel, as you relax. Let the tension out of your feet and your ankles. Let them rest."

John spoke softly and Sherlock, surprisingly, found that it was working. His feet practically felt like they were asleep at this point. He kept his eyes closed and focused on listening to John's voice as he went through the guided meditation. It seemed to be working wonders and he didn't want it to stop.

"Now your calves, let them relax. Loosen the muscles there and feel them lose all stiffness you've built up during the day. And do the same with your knees, and your thighs. Let them just melt and relax," John breathed, watching as Sherlock actually seemed to be relaxing. "Good. Let your hips fall back and relax. They don't have to carry anything right now. They don't have to move. Just relax. Let your stomach loosen, release all the tension that's built up. And let your chest, as it rises and falls with each breath, breathe out all of the negative energy. Release every bit of tension and strain, every bit of negativity out of your body. Let your shoulders slump and relax. Now your neck.... Good. Doesn't that feel better? Now finally, let your head just relax. Every bit of it, all the way to the crown. Let it just loosen and relax."

As John's voice hummed peacefully, Sherlock's body seemed to obey his every instruction. When the instruction was complete, John began his chanting again. He continued for a while, just letting it fill the quiet air around them as Sherlock relaxed. John himself even began to relax as he closed his and crossed his legs. There seemed to be a calmness in the room, letting the positive energy flow between them as they both relaxed. Before they knew it, they'd been at it for hours. John finally opened his eyes and looked at the clock, eyes widening when he saw the time. 

"Oh, um," he murmured, then calmed himself. It wouldn't do to jerk Sherlock out of the meditation. "All right, let's come back," he hummed soothingly. "Deep breaths, as far as you can take them. Wiggle your toes and fingers a bit. Let the feeling flow back into them," he instructed. "Good. Now, roll onto your right side and just lie there for a bit while your body wakes up. Let the feeling slowly return to your whole body, every last muscle. Now while you take another deep breath, I want you to sit up slowly and gently. Let your head be the last thing that comes back into place and then open your eyes."

Sherlock did just that, feeling a calmness and an almost tired feeling taking over his body. He yawned softly and stretched a bit before finally letting his brain turn on once more. 

"Incredible," he murmured and John beamed.

"You just spent hours in the corpse pose," the doctor told him. "I've rarely ever spent such a long time with someone in any pose, much less that one."

"I think it's my new favourite," Sherlock admitted with a smile, then got to his feet. "It's getting late. Why don't you stay?" he suggested, offering John a hand. "Perhaps we can do more yoga in the morning. There's a spare room, if you'll be needing it. But my room is right through there," he pointed out, showing John the door. "Or if you like, you can stay on the sofa, though that may exacerbate your injury. A bed is likely to be much more suitable."

John blushed a bit at the suggestion as he stood, but nodded. "I guess you're right.....It's a bit late to be going home now. If you really don't mind, I'll stay," he agreed.

"If I minded, I wouldn't have suggested it in the first place," the detective answered with a shrug. 

They ended up spending a great deal longer talking once they'd rolled up their mats, trading stories about war and drugs, about teenage years, ambitions, dreams, broken hearts, injuries, and more. John learned more about this curly haired beanpole than he'd ever thought there could be to a single person. There was such a deep story there and John just had to turn the page and find out more. He loved learning about the detective and eventually the topic was turned to sex.

"One of the articles about you.....Well, they called you The Virgin. Why is that?" John asked.

"Because I've never had sex. Certainly you, of all people, know what a virgin is," Sherlock scoffed.

"Of course I do!" John insisted, his face heating up a bit. "I just meant.....well, I didn't know if it was true. I mean.....you could have a girlfriend or--"

"Girlfriend? No.....not really my area," Sherlock answered with a slight frown.

"Oh...well....boyfriend then? Which is fine too. It's all fine," the blond was quick to point out.

"I know it's fine," Sherlock told him. "But no."

"Oh.....so you're unattached then.....like me. That's....that's good," John replied with a sigh. 

"John.....I'm not exactly well versed in human interaction. But....this would appear to be flirting, would it not?" Sherlock commented, raising a brow. "If so, I'd like to reciprocate. But I'm not certain how to go about it."

John blushed deeply before deciding to be bold. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against Sherlock's, kissing his gently at first before weaving his fingers into those dark, gorgeous locks of hair. He gave a light tug as he noticed the detective returning his advances, pressing back against him. They didn't pull apart until the need to breathe interrupted, then met each other's eyes with a mutual sort of desire.

"I, um......A certain muscle seems to be....tensing," Sherlock commented with a slight cough, glancing at his groin.

John looked at well and chuckled when he realized Sherlock meant he was getting hard. "I think I can find a way to release that," he purred, then followed as Sherlock began moving to his bedroom. Before long, the pair were doing more than just yoga. But they were right. It did release Sherlock's 'tense muscle' and they ended up falling asleep shortly afterwards.

"I bloody love yoga," was the last thing muttered before they drifted off.


End file.
